


The Sculpting of Pip Snowy

by MissDragonSpire



Category: Internet Remix
Genre: Advent Event, Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDragonSpire/pseuds/MissDragonSpire
Summary: Under a pale, glassy sky, the first real snow of the season lets loose unto the land. Some romp in search of play; some of war; some of imagination. In an explorative walk, Jojo happens to find a new buddy in need of this last objective.
Kudos: 4





	The Sculpting of Pip Snowy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Internet Remix Unofficial server's advent gift event. Hope you enjoy!

Under a pale, glassy sky, all of IR was out in the romp of weekend play, for Darby had chased them from steely walls to chattering outdoors. The previous night had snowed furiously, the mighty snow demons letting loose their best shot unto the land. The war passed, all was a freeze frame of a field caught under crisp white air like the surface of a fogged snow globe. The snow went up to the knees in some places; in others, there were mounds as all as cars.

"A swell day," said Darby, "to get the heart pumping, and some fresh air," before one by one they were shooed out so he could do something sneaky.

Nobody would really ever forget - or hear in the same way again - the chugging pops of his marshmallow gun.

It was not so long that everybody found ways to amuse themselves. And so, a day out it was.

The chaotic goods, Atwas, Dawn, and Juno went out first, eyes all wild for the savor of war. And what better war to make than a snowball war? Alex shrugged and stooped, slippers and socks still on, and wrote lyrics with a stick, right from the syllable he had been forced to leave off from.

Cami went jogging, and, dragging a poor soul Chi-Chi along as they barreled through a snow poff as though it were nothing, forged a mighty track whose walls went up to the shoulders. Xander made a bunch of mini-snowmen and silently plotted a wonderful, horrible idea for a D&D oneshot. 

And Tom went to sleep. Do not ask where, for no one quite knows the location (or how he at all got cozy).

As for the others, their tales were their own, but the last individual to be looked upon would be the littlest dragon, and the bird who was their new friend.

Jojo went off exploring. A world, even a small world contained in a city or a field of white foggy air, became something new in the clothes of a different season, which meant more to know of a home. If one had the courage to go out and look. So they went.

A whistle was on their chapped lips, a tune they had put together that violent night. Attracting the winter bird to tweet along, and luring it to come join them, it gave Jojo new confidence that the others might like it, once cleaned and put to a program. The bird hopped after them, and helped make the most befuddling trail that a dragging scarf, better yet a dragon's tail, carved in the powder.

To Scott and Brodingles they waved, a duo in mighty work of raising a fort of the ages. And to a shivering, wilted Invidebit and lurking Uprising they called a hullo when the wind became too much to whistle any more. And similar greetings went all the way, until IR Tower stood in the distance like a beacon.

And in that spot, at the outskirts of the field where the encompassing city really began, and the walkways were far more visible as the snow got thinner, was where the snowman was found.

Not quite a snowman, not fully, but a snowman nonetheless. It was in the shade of an oak tree, its face darkened. Built by but two portions, it was lumpy all over as though pat down in an ushered hurry, which may have truthfully been the method for everything else; its leaf eyes were close to falling out, a dozen bird's feathers, down and flight, were stuck the the sides like a dragon's ear frills, and sturdy as chewed buttons were misshapen, jagged rocks.

The more Jojo looked, the more pity churned in their deep heart. Its builder hardly got to make what could have been. And now, in an unsorted mess like the tools of a trade left at the skeleton of a project, it had been abandoned.

Their bird friend preened nearby. Its head cocked way under a wing, it yanked free a feather that was blown to their shoe. A picture formed in such the way it stuck upright. And from the picture, an idea.

In glee, they snatched bird and feather, and dashed for creative devices.

An acorn for a button nose. The leaf eyes were decently uncrinkled and affixed in their proper place, as were all the feathers, including the bird friend's one - the flights became the intended ear frills, and the downs, waggly eyebrows. The body stayed two portions - a smol just like me, Jojo giggled to themselves. A seashell from waters the dead dare not tread, it made the beak-like nose, and a chunk of coral the crooked smile. And a toss of shattered, smashed, pulverized candy cane for a touch of glitter over all its body. It would twinkle by the midnight lights. Any passerby who would take a sleepy stroll would not feel so alone under the watch of the creation by two.

Jojo took a step away to have a distanced look. Their bird friend nestled in a pocket made by the scarf that they threw on last. Its new snow buddy looked and felt cheerful now. Sparkly they were in seasonal joy. Exactly what the co-sculpter might have wanted at all.

A shout crashed across the field.

Jojo barely got to ask - Radix, a blur past them, said Darby was calling them back, and the mad dash began. Probably because of the sleet storm rolling in, and of those few who were out were not so for a second more. Jojo squeaked, and scrambled in a circle of indecision. The bird squawked, and took up shelter in the branches, and squawked less harshly. That was enough; Jojo slapped a mound of snow at the snowman's base. They had but taken seconds to write the words, and then off they went.

Somehow they wound up in Cami's track, as did Moon, and got into a race with him, all bets laid down in the run.

When everyone was inside and warmed up, they found a pile of presents, new ones, under the tree, all addressed from Darby.

"I couldn't get anything wrapped with everyone's varying sleep hours," he admitted, and offered to make cocoa. 

The night came in such a blur of shaking the boxes, late carols, and movies in the background while decorations were completed, that Jojo's only space of a moment to look outside came as sleep was creeping under the covers. A clock marched faintly. Jojo found enough strength to tug the comforter off their head and press their face to the window. They had to squint, but it was there.

In pale, glittering midnight lights, a friendly dragon-ish snow buddy, a smol of a snowman, stood beneath the old oak tree, guarded by the littlest dragon's bird friend who slept in its scarf.

And beneath, the makeshift plaque that they hoped would be completed before the spring came: "Pip Snowy. By Jojo & ________."


End file.
